


Peanut butter and marshmallows

by curlycomfort



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: And How He Fell In Love With Peanut Butter And Marshmallows Sandwiches, First Meetings, Gen, Grace is a good mother, How Number Five Met Grace, They Are Four Years Old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23714107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlycomfort/pseuds/curlycomfort
Summary: Vanya had been adamant of her testimony. Their new babysitter was a robot.orHow Number Five met Grace.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Grace Hargreeves
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89





	Peanut butter and marshmallows

Vanya had been adamant of her testimony. Their new babysitter was a robot.

And Five had stared up from his breakfast, glancing carefully around to check whether anyone had heard so as well. But Klaus was busy throwing things at Diego and Ben. And Allison and Luther were whispering back and forth between them, which left Five as the sole listener to her... interesting claims.

When he met her gaze again, he furrowed his eyebrows deeply at the slightly spooked expression she wore, the same she'd used when waking him up to check on the weird noise that had come from the roof once many nights ago.

"A robot." Number Five deadpanned monotonously. 

Vanya nodded, moved closer, and whispered.

"I threw her against a glass cabinet, but she didn't react like the others. She got up... and her head was on backwards."

 _Backwards_. Jesus. He wouldn't be surprised if it was real -anything at that point could be real if they were children with powers- and there was actually a robot working for their dad but...

"I've never seen her." He accused.

Vanya slightly swung her legs back and forth over the edge of the chair. "Dad wanted to test her first. I don't think it will take long before she shows up for _you_ too."

And well, Five was no coward but, he might've just left his lamp on for several nights in a row.

 _No one_ had to know that.

-

Nothing happened for the next few weeks, but Number Five kept a keen eye on anything unusual. Dad still hid in his office for too long and Pogo just stood to the side to keep an eye out on the young Hargreeves in case any of them -Klaus specifically- decided to try something that would end up getting them hurt.

He should've been observant to realize that something was different when Pogo wasn't there to watch them play one morning. Klaus and Ben were making a racket on the second floor, their feet stumping loudly against the halls they ran down. His siblings usually stayed inside the Academy, still not quite brave enough about going outside to explore. But Five was a big boy, nearly four and _three quarters_ , so he certainly wasn't scared about going outside to walk around the enormus garden surrounding them.

His current point of interest was successfully climbing up the old and frankly tangled tree that somehow had begun growing attached to the farthest wall East. Getting there was an adventure in itself, having to crawl through mounds of wild plants and those green, ugly plants he'd learned weren't good for a garden. His shoes crunched mutely over the sticks scattered around, and he'd just crossed over the most difficult fragment when he saw a figure at the edge of his sight.

He belatedly realised that he'd instantaneously gone back to think about what Vanya had told him, of the big scary robot that would watch over them as well.

 _No._ He wasn't going to let himself be haunted by what could, in the end, be a fragment of his sibling's imagination. But when he crouched to tug his shoe out of a specifically tight pile of tangled stems, he saw that same figure, tall, _so tall_ and yellow, no, blonde. Wait, that couldn't be it, robots didn't have hair.

Then that meant there was a stranger in their garden, and they, _she_ was approaching him with a bright smile, stare locked on him.

He'd never felt any fear like so, tugging and twisting his stomach into tight knots, the dread spreading over his limbs quickly. The woman was not stopping, and Pogo probably didn't know he had sneaked out, and Dad was in his office, and what if she took him away to some _horrible_ place?

Number Five turned around, made a run for it, but he didn't get far before he was tripping over a root, the unexpected obstacle sending him flying off and onto the harsh ground, his knees and hand bracing him to compensate for the fall. Upon sitting and taking a look, he saw the little gashes along his skin begin to bleed, and the pain washed over in a crescent wave, making his legs shake a little and eyes spring with tears.

And suddenly, for whatever absurd reason he didn't seem to think about the woman that had been following, instead his features scrunched up, and against his will -because he shouldn't be crying over such thing, he was a grown boy- the tears began to fall in silent waterfalls. He couldn't even hide behind balled fists when his palms burned and itched, and Pogo wasn't going to let him out of his sight if he _saw he couldn't be left alone either._

The slight burn of the sun high over the sky transitioned into a cool shadow, and then came the voice, to which he looked up with narrowed eyes.

"Now, you should be careful when running around a place like this. There are _plenty_ of ways you could get hurt." And he was being lifted up, a strong and unmoving arm settling over his bottom as the other encased around his back delicately. Number Five suddenly could see what other tall people saw, and the tree he'd been about to tackle was going smaller and smaller as she took him away, and with slight irritation -and maybe a little sense of content at being held so softly- he buried his face against the woman's shoulder, the smell of lavander and recently washed clothes matching the softness of her voice.

He recognized his surroundings as the kitchen, and he was set down over the counter to sit, hands being brought close to his chest to craddle the hurt in them. The woman went away for a second, returning with a first aid kid and a slight hum taking over her voice as she methodically set the materials down and began tending to his knees. He tried not to think about how she hummed that happy tune a little louder when she applied the alcohol over his knees, as if comforting his pain as best as she could; or how she brushed back his hair when threads would fall loose.

And Number Five could only watch in silence, hiccuping through the last of his breakdown as she put the materials back in the box the same way she had taken them out in the beginning. He didn't move either when she reached for the cupboard and retrieved the peanut butter, a bag of marshmallows and a loaf of bread, together with a knife to spread.

"Are you a robot?" He couldn't help but ask bluntly, and the woman only smiled and laughed a little, spreading a good portion of peanut butter over the bread. 

"I will be your new caretaker from now on. Now, do you like marshmallows, dear?" Five blinked, nodded, and watched with growing intrigue as she began lining up a few of them over the peanut butter. Right. Nothing weird about marshmallows on _peanut butter._

"Are you here to kidnap me?" He asked instead, and the smile on her face twitched a little, as if taken by surprise. She cut the sandwich in half, set it on a plate and walked over to him with a clean step, her dress just as neat as her movements.

"No dear, I'm here to make sure you are _safe._ Now eat your little snack. Someone told me you didn't finish your breakfast today, young man." And the treat was nudged towards him, and he persisted on his stare while taking a bite.

He did a double look at the sandwich, because holy, the sandwich was heaven, and how hadn't he thought that the two would be the ideal combination. 

Number Five was halfway through, content with just sitting and eating, and he could feel his mouth drawing into a smile. 

Then he snapped out of it, eyes narrowing once again. "It's good, but don't think it'll convince me of trusting you... Madame-"

"I'm Grace, dear. Pleasure to meet you."

"Madame _Grace."_ He grit, a little suspiciously.

The woman merely smiled again, brushed another loose strang behind his ear, and okay, maybe he shouldn't be that harsh on her- no. He couldn't let himself be fooled so easily. Dad had taught them better.

Grace had busied herself with washing the dishes, and the sun shone through the window, bathing her in a delicate glow as she began to sing.

" _Lundi matin,_  
_L'emp'reur, sa femme et le p'tit prince_  
_Sont venus chez moi_  
_Pour me serrer la pince_  
_Comm' j'étais parti_  
_Le p'tit prince a dit_  
_Puisque c'est ainsi_  
_Nous reviendrons mardi._ "

Number Five didn't stay to hear her singing. Of course he did _not._

 _He stayed because he had to make sure she wouldn't try anything._ That was a much more valid reason.


End file.
